Jennifer’s review of Exposed by Lyz Kelley

Title: Exposed

Author: Lyz Kelley

Genre: Contemporary romance

Stars: 5🛍🛍🛍🛍🛍

Exposed is the 5th book in the Elkridge series and is a fast easy read. It can be a read as a standalone (but is better as a series). This is a very sweet romance that took me on a bit of an emotional ride. The story is well written and flows very well. I love the characters and love that I have already met them in the previous stories. I am always surprised while reading Lyz Kelley. She somehow always makes the characters and scenes she writes come alive in my mind. I can always see clearly in my head the scenes she paints. The characters always feel like real life people. The emotions I feel while reading the characters feel real. She is a fantastic writer. As always with this series, bring a tissue or two while you are reading and be prepared to fall in love.

Fractured Love by Ella James

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About the Book(1)

EJFracturedLoveBookCover6x9_MEDIUM I was sixteen when he came to our house. Landon Jones, a boy with nothing, from nowhere. He had cinnamon hair and blue eyes—light blue, just like mine. When we went out as a family with my foster brother, people asked if Landon was my twin. He wasn’t. That year, we found out how much he wasn’t. When my parents caught us, they threw Landon out like trash.

Now I’m twenty-nine, a soon-to-be surgeon, like my mom and dad. I know residency is going to kick my ass, but I had no idea that it would rip my heart out, too. Not until I see him—Dr. Jones.

A standalone that is part of the Off-Limits Romance collection.

Purchase on Amazon or Read for FREE on KU!
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About the Author

EllaJames_blacksmElla James is the USA Today bestselling author of sixteen teen and adult love stories. She’s an angst-a-holic who loves exploring difficult situations and the emotions of the people caught up in them. Also, smut. But always, always romance.

Ella’s obsessions include vanilla cream soda, hiking, other weird, crunchy things like rock collecting, and the antics of her three little monsters.

To find out more about her projects, follow her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/ellajamesbooks, tweet her at author_ellaj or follow her on Instagram (authorellajames).

Interested in the foreign rights for one of Ella’s books? Contact her agent, Rebecca Friedman, at rebecca@rfliterary.com.

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Drawn to Him 

 

 

 

Coming September 19th
Drawn to Him website coming soon

 

There are some men who make you helpless.

You know the kind.  They steal the breath from your lungs and make your heart beat a little faster with a single look.  You can’t stop staring, but the moment they pin those gorgeous eyes on you, you’re done for.

The kind that’s too hard to resist.

This is a collection of men just like that.

Handsome, confident and all for you.


These are the other authors involved with this collection, M. Never, L.J. Shen, K. Webster, Jade West, Isabella Starling, A. Zavarelli and K.L Kreig.

 

 

 

 

A Losing Battle by Anne Stone

 

 

Hunter has left home to join the Marine Corps, leaving Mackenzie behind, confused and unsure about her feelings. She loves Carter, she really, really does, but could there be a spark between her and Hunter, as well?

Mackenzie does the only thing she can in the circumstances: she buries her conflicting emotions in her work. But when she sees Hunter again, she knows the time for a decision has come.

Little does she know, time is running out for the both of them.
Coming July 24th

 

 

 
Hunter

When we get out off the bus at Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego, we’re told to step onto the yellow footprints, our first formation for close-order drill. They used the bus ride to give us a first impression of our new life as Marines. To sum it up: nothing here is even remotely gentle or pleasant.
We’re allowed to call home and inform our next of kin that we’ve arrived safely. But, obviously, I don’t. I can’t risk Mac picking up. Hearing her voice would kill me. What if she sounded sad? I’d be on my way home in an instant—but that would make me a deserter. And what if she sounded happy? My heart would turn to dust.
After people have made their calls, we’re given uniforms and a “high and tight”—that hot Marine-style haircut. I already wear my hair short, but after they’re done, I’m practically bald.
That first day, we have to fill in forms, then we get some vaccines and undergo medical examinations. And then? They give us our first weapon.
For three days, we’re up and running without any sleep whatsoever. After that, we have to take the IST—the initial strength test—to see whether we’re fit to be Marines.
First, we’re required to do sit-ups—at least forty-five in two minutes. I’m glad I’m in good shape, thanks to football—and Shane. While it’s happening, I don’t really have time to see how the others do, but I do notice some of them giving up. So far, I haven’t really talked to anyone. But after three days without sleep, expecting anyone to get anything done is pretty much a miracle.
Next, we do pull-ups. We have to do three, which seems laughable. I can do way more, but no need to show them. After that, we have to complete a one-and-a-half mile run in less than thirteen and a half minutes. Not a problem. Even when groggy and sleep deprived. But this is how they separate the wheat from the chaff. I would be embarrassed to be failing already, but some of these guys really do not measure up to what’s expected of a Marine.
I’ve never been so exhausted in my life. You know when you’re dead tired, but then you keep going and get beyond that point? No? I don’t either. I’d fall asleep standing up if they’d let me. But there isn’t a quiet minute to be had. The only good thing about all this? There’s no time to think.
I reach my limits on “Black Friday.” We meet our drill instructor, who yells at us and intimidates us, pushing our psychological limits. Shane told me about this—including the fact that they make the initial stage of boot camp as confusing and disorienting as possible to let us know that civilian life is over for us, and life as a Marine is something completely different.
But it’s tough. In my family, there’s never been a lot of yelling. Dad probably yelled at me for the first time in five years just last week. And suddenly there’s this guy yelling directly into your ear, not giving you an ounce of the respect you’re used to, the respect your father always said you deserved. Your initial impulse is not to stand there and take it. Growing up in liberal California has made it difficult to take that kind of abuse. But I do anyway. I know they want total obedience so that we can function in extreme situations, and this is what I want.
But that was only the Receiving Phase.
As soon as we enter Phase One, I’ll want to go back to the first part of our training—or to any other part of my life, for that matter. Phase One will take four weeks, and they’ll break us down psychologically, trying to expel every last ounce of civilian behavior from our bones. Because we are no longer civilians. We are Marine recruits. Everything we’ve done in our lives thus far is wrong and bad for us if we want to be proper soldiers.
Strict discipline, endless training, and the same routines over and over again—these are the building blocks of our first few weeks. Training is easy for me. Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but I knew it was going to be bad. I’ve been preparing myself for this, which makes it easier. I can take it. But what I really hate is all the stuff they do to rob us of our individuality. Your entire life people have been telling you to choose your own path and stop being like a sheep following the herd, and suddenly it’s the exact opposite they want from you.
We’re not supposed to be individuals. We’re supposed to be a team. And it makes sense. We need to be able to rely on each other. In combat, we can’t be successful if we’re not a cohesive unit, but it’s still tough. We’re only allowed to talk about ourselves in the third person, saying things like “This recruit understands” and stuff. Everything inside me rebels against it, but I know that’s part of it all.
At night, I lie awake trying not to think about Mac. She is my strength and my greatest weakness at the same time. I want to make her proud, show her what kind of a man I am. But thinking of her also opens up wounds inside me. It’s hard to love and not be loved back.
On the other hand, intense physical and mental exhaustion makes it impossible to give too much thought to anything. It may sound strange, but I embrace the rigidity. I don’t want to think about all the things that are going wrong in my life, and instead focus on surviving this. And it’s like the drill sergeants know it. They make sure that if they ever give us a free moment, all we want to do is sleep.
We learn about the history of the Marines, the rank structure, first aid. We study formations and uniforms. We learn how to handle our weapon, clean it, and always have it with us. We start our close-combat training. Without weapons, with repurposed weapons, and with our rifle, which is going to accompany us throughout boot camp.
We don’t talk much. Usually we’re half dead when they stop yelling in our ears. But the first friendships develop somehow. Killian Hastings is my bed neighbor. Cool guy. A natural-born soldier, a natural-born Marine. He passes every exam like he was made to do this. If he wasn’t cool, I would hate him. But he’s a team player, always thinking about others first. He is not a leader and never will be, but he is the glue you need to build a team.
Joey Montana is the second comrade I would call a friend. He’s a joker, always up for some banter. And let me tell you, I need it—especially in the third week when we start our swimming and water survival training. The pressure is getting worse. Because this is the first time they can kick us out of boot camp. Fail twice, and you can forget about being a Marine.
It’s enough to drives you to despair. But we don’t have time for that, either. We are not supposed to think, and our superiors take that idea seriously. And they’re really good at it.
Our training gets harder by the day. The stronger we get, the more they expect from us. The more our bodies get used to the strain, the tougher it gets. We’re made to repeat everything, in order to engrain it into our brains and make it muscle memory—so that we’re able to do every exercise in our sleep. It’s tiring. But nobody ever said boot camp was going to be easy.
It does help against heartbreak, though. The harder I work, the less I think of Mac, simply because my brain’s capacity is insufficient to deal with anything beyond survival.
And then there’s the part of Phase One I dread the most. The gas chamber. I don’t want to go in. But we have to. If we leave it, they send us back in. If we don’t obey, they kick us out of boot camp.
I’m standing there with my gas mask doing calisthenics when they tell us to take off our masks. I take it off and feel panic trying to conquer my insides. I can’t do this is the only thought in my head. I can’t do this, but I have no choice. I can’t give up because I wouldn’t know what else to do. I can’t go back home, back to that situation. That might make me a coward, but the thought of it just rips my heart out. Every time Dad kisses her, I want to grab her from his arms and punch him in the face because he’s kissing my girl. But I don’t think the caveman method would sit too well with him.
No, I need to stick to this. It’s all I have.
There comes the command to put our masks back on.
It’s over. My panic recedes.
The threat of Mac has saved me, even if I wish I could entertain more positive thoughts of her.
Before we go to bed, we get one hour of square-away time. It’s not every night, only when our DI says so. We have to make sure our gear is up to scratch, and while we’re not allowed to shower or sleep, we’re allowed to shave, which feels good. We’re also allowed to read and write letters. I keep getting letters from Carey, but I don’t read them, and I don’t write back. I just can’t. It makes me too sad. I feel horrible about leaving him. The only thing that makes me feel a little better is the idea that I’ve left him with Mac.
“Hey, man,” Joey says, sitting down beside me. “There’s this girl I like. She wrote to me, and I want to write back, but all I can think of is the fact that I want to stick my dick inside her.”
I smile.
“Something makes me think that wouldn’t be such a good idea,” he says. “Can you help me out?”
“It depends where you are in your relationship. Have you ever had your dick inside her?” I ask.
He smiles. “Everywhere.”
Across the room, Killian laughs. “I don’t believe you. If you’d actually been inside her ass, you’d know what to write to her.”
“A sonnet to her juicy ass?” Joey asks, laughing.
“Thinking of her juicy ass, I can survive the harshest gas,” Killian says with mock severity.
“Oh man, that was horrible,” I laugh, wiping tears from my eyes.
“When I see her juicy ass, I want her to blow my brass,” somebody else quips.
“Dude, I lose my fucking wits, sucking on her awesome tits,” yells another bard from the other side of the dorm. I laugh because it just feels good to be young and stupid for a change.
“Let me be blunt, I’d fuck her cunt.”
“She sucks my dick, it’s hard as a brick.”
“Good thing none of you have to make a living as a poet,” Joey says. “I actually like her, okay?”
“Hey, man, there’s no need to wallow. She might like you too—does she swallow?”
“Well, if she doesn’t suck it up, you can serve it to her in a cup.”
We laugh and laugh until we hear: “What exactly is there to laugh about, recruits? Free time’s over. A hundred and twenty seconds to get showered. Go!”
A hundred and twenty seconds isn’t that long, but you learn really quickly to only wash the important parts. Normally, this would include my dick—just in case it gets sucked—but there’s nobody here I would want on the job. And besides, I kind of swore an oath I would only ever let Mac do it.
Fuck. I really didn’t think that promise through.
Overall, it gets easier. A person can get used to anything. The tough training becomes second nature, and it gets easier to adjust to the whole drill. Phase Two is mainly weapons training. We’re sent to Edson Range, at Pendleton, for three weeks, where we practice marksmanship. We have to pass several exams, but they prepare us well. And let’s face it. We’ve been through worse. Still, when we get our first badges for marksmanship, it feels good to have achieved something tangible, to get to tick some boxes.
I don’t know whether it’s because we’re going through the same experience, or maybe you just get used to each other more easily in times of crisis, but Killian and Joey become like brothers to me. I don’t want to put Carey down, but I would entrust my life to them before him.
It also quickly becomes clear why the buddy system is such a hit. It is much easier to make it through difficult situations when you have moral support. We cheer and egg each other on—whenever we’re not too tired to open our mouths. Without my two buddies, this would be much harder.
Killian is from Texas and looks like an all-American boy. Normally. There’s hardly anything left of his blond hair, but his blue eyes still shine, even at the ends of the toughest days. He’s tall, not as tall as me, but then again, few are. He has a sunny disposition, and nothing can faze him. He’s always cool, never reacts to people teasing him. Not that a lot of them would try. I guess with his looks, you’re predestined to be respected.
Joey, on the other hand, is small. Sometimes I wonder aloud how he passed the minimum height and weight requirements—but only to tease him. He’s not actually that small, and he has endless strength and endurance. Where Killian and I have trouble with our height, Joey always gets through. Not that I’m jealous or anything.
At the end of our marksmanship training, the platoons compete with each other, and we win, breaking out into enthusiastic cheers. This really lifts morale on our team, and it also earns us a bonus. We’re allowed to make phone calls. A privilege I don’t use…
Still, the next week feels like we’re on break. They take our measurements for our gala uniforms, and any medical conditions are treated. It’s only four weeks left. Then we’re done. The goal during our final phase is to put everything we’ve learned together and polish our initial skill set. This includes an exam and a performance test that I pass with flying colors.
I’m stronger than I was a few weeks ago, not just physically, but mentally, too. I no longer have any doubt: I know what my life is going to look like, and I have accepted it. Physically, I’m somewhat wider, having built up more muscle. And it’s made me feel more at home inside my body. Often, when you’re tall, you subconsciously hunch down in order not to stand out. And even though I’ve always been relatively confident, I’ve always had to bend down to communicate with other people. Which messed with my posture. And, in psychological terms, it does the same to you as walking through life with a bent back.
But now? Now I have a completely different outlook.
Boot camp has given me a new confidence, the type of confidence you can only gain knowing that you’ll be able to defend yourself in any situation you’ll ever face—be it with words, weapons, or your own bare hands.
At the end of boot camp, we’re divided into groups to do a final exam lasting two days. It’s a combat simulation testing us in different stress situations, including sleep and food deprivation, and danger to your body and your life.
It is difficult, but it’s surprising how you can turn into a completely different person in such a short period of time. Twelve weeks ago, I would never have believed I could do this. Now, it seems like I was born to do it, like I’ve never done anything else in my life. And it feels good. It shows what I’ve achieved, what I can achieve if I make up my mind. A lot of it is physical, but it is the mental strength I’ve gained that really surprises me.
After twelve weeks, we’re done. Finally, I want to say. But that’s not how I feel.
Now it feels like I’m leaving my family all over again. It’s not a good feeling.
Joey wants to join the infantry, while Killian and I are going to do twenty-nine days of Marine Combat Training before joining the Marine Combatant Divers. At least it’s good to know I don’t have to leave everybody behind again.
After graduation, we’ll get ten days off. Killian has invited me to Texas, and I’ve decided to accept because I still can’t imagine going home. And I have nowhere else to go.

Everybody is desperate for our graduation ceremony. Not just because it means we’ve made it, but because they’re proud. They want to show their loved ones what they’ve achieved. Personally, I don’t care about that part of it, but I haven’t told the others that when I’m done here, I won’t have anybody waiting to congratulate for me.
At the ceremony, we stand in formation to listen to the final talk, the finish to this chapter of our training. As Marines. All around me, my comrades are hugging their mothers, sisters, and girlfriends. All around me, there is love.
But I’m all alone.
“Hey, soldier!” I hear the voice behind me but don’t turn.
For a moment, I stay completely still, certain I’m hallucinating. Finally, I turn around.
And there’s Mac, standing in front of me in a summer dress. She is so beautiful my breath stops for a moment.
“Marine,” I say softly.
She smiles. “Hey, Marine.”
She comes closer, somewhat unsure about how to act, before throwing herself around my neck. I hug her back, pick her up, and squeeze her really tight.
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers in my ear.
Fuck, hearing that from her really turns me on!
When, after half an eternity, I put her back down, I look into her teary eyes. “How did you know?”
She shrugs. “I’m stalking you.”
I smile. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything more beautiful in my life. “Oh, really?”
“I knew you wouldn’t tell me, but I wanted you to know how incredibly proud of you I am. I knew you’d make it.”
Right now, I feel ten feet tall instead of six. No, wait! I’m not even mortal. I’m a god!
My girl is proud of me. Is there anything in the world better than that?
“Carey’s here, too,” she says.
I look around and see him standing a little off to the side. He looks insecure, like he doesn’t know whether he’s welcome here. I hate myself for making my brother question whether I care about him. I run over to him and pull him into my arms.
“I’ve missed you, bro,” I say quietly, patting him on the back
“You never wrote back,” he says, his fingers clawing into my uniform like he never wants to let me go again.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t. I always wanted to, but I couldn’t. It would have broken my focus.”
Carey nods. “I thought…”
“I’m sorry, man. I always want you in my life. You’re my brother. The only family I’ve got.”
“You’ve got Mac, too,” he says quietly, and I look over at her. She’s standing a few steps away, her cheeks shiny, looking at us but giving us privacy.
I nod. “I’ve got Mac, too, but not like I want her.” Oops. That just came out. I wasn’t planning to tell Carey.
But he says, “I know.”
I give him a surprised look. “You do?”
“I’m not blind. Your goodbye kiss was pretty obvious,” he says. “And I’m not deaf, either. Dad and Mac fight about you all the time.”
“That bad?”
He shrugs just as Mac steps closer. “Is everything okay, boys?”
I nod, putting my arm around her shoulders to pull her close again. I plant a kiss on her head.
“Hey, Tilman!” Joey calls, coming toward us.
“Hands off,” I joke before I introduce him. He kisses Mac’s hand and smiles at Carey.
“My parents want to go grab a bite to eat. They wanted to invite my friends. You coming?”
I look at Mac and Carey.
“They can come,” Joey says quickly.
Mac shakes her head. “Thanks, that’s really sweet, but I need to go.” She avoids my eye, and I know she’s thinking about Dad.
I make an effort to hide my disappointment as I tell Joey, “Carey and I’ll be there in a second.”
“I’m sorry,” Mac whispers.
“It’s okay,” I say, even though nothing is okay. In that moment, I realize—no, remember—that she’s never going to leave Dad for me.
This needs to stop. Otherwise I will not survive it.
“How long do you get off?” she asks.
“Ten days.”
“Are you coming home?”
“Home. Nice word, but I no longer have one,” I say, shocked at the bitterness in my own voice.
She nods, tears running down her cheeks. “I—”
“Let it go, Mac. Let it go.”
She quickly presses herself against me and runs away without turning around again. I look after her.
“Hunt…”
“She’s never going to leave him, is she?”
Carey shrugs. “No idea, man. But I wouldn’t wait for it.”

 

I’m a contemporary romance writer, who likes her men tattooed, her women independent and her coffee strong.

My stories are all about love, but some are of the romantic kind, some of the sad kind and others of the very steamy kind. So if you can stand drama, foul language and sex, you came to the right place.

Love, Annie

 

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Bad Boss by Clarissa Wild

 

Title: Bad Boss
Author: Clarissa Wild
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: July 19, 2017
Blurb
What do men want more than anything? Money and women.
As the CEO of one of the biggest companies in the city, I am
one lucky man.
Everyone wants a taste of what I’ve got to offer, and it’s
massive. Girls fight over me in droves.
In my fantasy, of course. I had to make some sacrifices to
get to the top.
To protect myself and the company, I always have to hide my
dirty little secret…
I’m a panty sniffer.
What? A man has needs. Mine are just a bit more… outrageous.
Instead of dating, I hoard panties.
Except it’s about to blow up in my face.
Why?
Because a beautiful girl just showed up for a job interview
… the same girl I just bought a pair of panties from anonymously…
And what do I do?
I let my junk do the thinking, and hire her as my
intern.
Author’s note: Don’t take it too hard, it’s just a book,
not a big D. But this guy does have one. I’m not kidding. His schlong is huge
and his ego is too, so beware. And as always … if you don’t like slapstick
jokes and corny romance, don’t bother to read.

 

 

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Trailer
Excerpt
“The
shower’s over there.” I point at my bathroom. “In case you wanna take a shower.
Or something.” Oh god, why did I have to make it sound so pervy?
“I’m fine,”
he says. “I just wanna get dry and get back to work.”
Damn.
For a
moment there, I’m actually disappointed. Now I won’t get to see his sexy abs
and imagine running my fingers all over them. I wonder what he looks like.
Seriously, Lesley? Stooping so low for some
action?
I should
definitely have more sex, just to prevent myself from craving him. I mean, I do
like casual sex, but I’ve been so busy running my panty-scheme and trying to
find a job that I just don’t have the time for sex. Let alone a boyfriend.
Nope. I definitely need to find some random hookup. That, or pull my trusty
vibrator from the closet.
Especially
when he just takes off his shirt … right
here in my living room.
I gulp.
The
shoulder and back muscles that appear beneath capture my attention, and not
just a little bit. My eyes are practically bulging out of my head as he marches
toward the bathroom and throws his shirt down with little to no care.
That sexy
body dragged me out of the water. He lifted me up and held me close to him as
he tried to bring me to the shore. I came so close
… and then I screwed it for myself. Why did I do that again? Oh right, because
I want to be my own boss. Stupid. I should’ve just let him touch me.
Oh, yes.
I’m practically drooling over my shoes at the thought. Fuck.
Roll in that damn tongue, girl.
He throws
his jacket on the counter and puts his shoes on the floor. Then he pulls off
his soaked socks and pants, revealing his mighty calves. He must go to the gym
often to look like this, but my question is …
Who’s he doing all the work for? Another girl? Not that it should matter. I
mean, I don’t have a shot. I shouldn’t even take a shot; he’s my damn boss.
Annoyed
with myself and my own dirty thoughts, I furrow my brows, but still, I can’t take my eyes off him.
He turns
around and stares right back at me.
And I’m
left horrified and stunned.
“Are you
looking at me?” A smug grin spreads across his face.
“N-no, I
wasn’t,” I stammer, barely able to keep my eyes from his abs, which are now
clearly visible as he’s turned my way.
He’s so
damn sexy, and to think that I was in the water with … that. I’m impressed. I never thought he’d be this good looking. I
wasn’t looking hard enough. Then again, he’s still kind of an ass.
He snorts.
“Yeah, you were.”

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Author Bio

 

Clarissa Wild is a New York Times & USA Today
Bestselling author, best known for the dark Romance novel Mr. X. Her novels
include the Fierce Series, the Delirious Series, the Stalker Duology,
Twenty-One (21), Ultimate Sin, Viktor, Bad Teacher, RUIN, the Indecent Games
Series, and FATHER. She is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot
men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning
about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of
movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.
Want to get an
email when my next book is released? Sign up here to receive 4 FREE short
stories: http://eepurl.com/FdY71 
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Lukas by F.G. Adams

Title: Lukas
Series: This Is Our Life #4
Author: F.G. Adams
Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance
 Release Date: July 19, 2017

 

Blurb
Oh, the foolish games we play.
The moment I was gifted a test drive of the luscious Sage
Blackwood, I knew she was mine. I was broken, half a man, until she pieced me
back together. She changed my world forever with her magnetic humor and hot
body. Sage is an expert of subterfuge. Her logic overrules her cravings. It
doesn’t matter if she feels the same; I’m the master at games and puzzles. And
I’ll win this game in the end. I always do.
Oh, the tangled webs we weave.
Pushing the wrong buttons is Lukas Rogers’ forte. Except he
presses all the right ones when he’s sending me to heaven with each and every
delicious touch. But I can’t give him what he wants. I will never give myself
completely to another. It just doesn’t work in my world. I bury those dreams
deep. My job connected us. Now this powerful bond scares me. My body desires to
cling to what Lukas offers, while my mind is telling me to run away.
Far.
Fast. 

Forever.

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F.G. Adams
writes contemporary and paranormal romance about sexy alpha heroes and
feisty-mouthed heroines. The wonder twins forming F.G. enjoy a healthy
obsession of reading that started at a young age. Their books reflect an avid
imagination that was cultivated by their grandmother who taught them the mind
has no limits and to use both hands when reaching for the stars. Partners in
writing, they both thrive on creating unique storylines for you, the reader to
enjoy.
When not writing, you can find them on a beach with their significant other
enjoying the waves or riding a Harley on a country road somewhere in the USA.

 
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Fractured Love by Ella James

Title: Fractured Love

An Off-Limits Romance Standalone

Author: Ella James
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: July 19, 2017
Blurb
She was my foster sister, her luxurious house the only home
I’d ever known. I fell in love with Evie before her doctor parents signed my
adoption papers. They threw me out the day they caught us. Now I’m Dr. Jones,
so far removed from who I used to be, it seems like a bad dream. I tell myself
nothing can touch me. Until I see the residency roster at Rockies University
Hospital. There’s only two incoming neurosurgery residents each year. This year
it’s Landon Jones—and Evie Rutherford.
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Also Available
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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Always free in Kindle Unlimited
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited

Author Bio

 

Ella James is the USA Today bestselling author of sixteen teen and adult love stories. She’s an angst-a-holic who loves exploring difficult situations and the emotions of the people caught up in them. Also, smut. But always, always romance.
Ella’s obsessions include vanilla cream soda, hiking, other weird, crunchy things like rock collecting, and the antics of her three little monsters.
To find out more about her projects, follow her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/ellajamesbooks, tweet her at author_ellaj or follow her on Instagram (authorellajames).
Interested in the foreign rights for one of Ella’s books? Contact her agent, Rebecca Friedman, at rebecca@rfliterary.com.
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